


Boggart Hunting

by KTook



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (featured in chapter 3 and the beginning of chapter 4), Boggarts, Exploration, Gen, Gore, Marauders' Era, Mischief in Making
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7776409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KTook/pseuds/KTook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a Saturday night, so naturally the Marauders are out having a bit of fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“It’s way past midnight!”

“I am very aware of that!”

“And four students are out in the corridors!”

“I _know_!”

“But…”

Professor Minerva McGonagall closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten. “We’ll find them and I will take care of them,” she said in a very controlled voice. She fixed Argus Filch, the caretaker, with her beady eyes. “Do you understand? _I_ will decide what to do with them.”

Filch pursed his lips. “All right,” he said at last.

“Good.” McGonagall nodded. “Now let’s-”

An ear-splitting, terrified scream, barely recognisable as human, cracked through the nightly castle, interrupting her. It rose in pitch and then silence fell as suddenly as the scream had erupted.

An icy cold shiver ran down McGonagall’s back. _If horror had a voice,_ she thought, _it would sound like that._ Without so much as a second glance at Filch, she turned around and hurried towards the direction the scream had come from.

Laughter erupted from in front of her, much to her bewilderment. She quickened her pace without breaking into a run, and finally, she saw a faint light from under an unused classroom’s door.

The laughter had broken off, but McGonagall was sure she that the troublemakers were in that room. She put her most disapproving face on and jerked the door open.

But instead of lapsing into a long, heavily accented dressing-down, she stopped dead, blinking at the image presenting itself, utterly nonplussed.

The first thing she saw was Remus Lupin, huddled in a dark corner, shaking and sobbing violently, clinging like his life depended on it to Sirius Black, who was embracing him, holding him close and gently rocking him like a child. He was murmuring something, and it took McGonagall a while to realise he was singing a lullaby.

Next, she noticed James Potter standing in front of them like a loyal guard, silent and determined. He held his wand, and when he turned around to face McGonagall, she saw that his expression was grave and withdrawn, with something flickering in his eyes she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Peter Pettigrew stood a few paces aside, the look on his face grim and defensive. He, too, had his wand in his hand.

For a few seconds, Professor McGonagall could do nothing but stare, struggling to grasp what she was seeing. The situation felt unreal and utterly bizarre, as if she was looking at a mirror image of the world known to her.

She looked at Lupin, quiet, strong Remus Lupin, who never lost his composure, completely dissolved into tears. She looked at Black, brash, rebellious Sirius Black, hugging him gently and singing a lullaby. Pettigrew, ditzy, clumsy Peter Pettigrew, was watching them, thoughtfully attentive.

Potter was the only one to look her straight in the eyes. He didn’t say a single word, he, James Potter, who didn’t know how to shut up his quirky rambles to save his own life.

Slowly, McGonagall realised she was witness to a side that had been lurking at the very bottom of their souls, and which they only showed to each other. She, McGonagall, was an intruder in this quiet, intimate routine in which each one of them knew exactly what he had to do.

Potter was still silently looking at her, and she understood. She quietly closed the door and nodded at him.

He replied with respectfully dipping his head. 

They waited. It was completely silent except for Lupin’s sobbing and Black’s soft, melodic voice. Some part in McGonagall’s voice that wasn’t preoccupied with processing what was happening voiced surprise that he could sing so well.

Lupin’s sops slowly grew softer until he was crying silently into Black’s shoulder. His breath seemed to steady, and finally, McGonagall saw his back rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm. She frowned. Had he fallen asleep?

Black whispered the last words of his lullaby, still not letting go. McGonagall had assumed he hadn’t noticed her come in, but as he now looked at her, there wasn’t the slightest hint of surprise on his face. He glanced at Potter and nodded once.

Potter walked carefully over to them and squatted down. He put one arm around Black’s shoulder and squeezed curtly. Then he looked at Lupin and back at Black, tilting his head in a wordless question.

Black replied with a shrug that seemed both helpless and modestly humble.

Potter patted him on the back, brushed a strand of hair out of Lupin’s face, and stood. Turning around, he looked at McGonagall, unblinking. Black followed suit, still crouching on the ground and holding Lupin. Even Pettigrew, who in any other situation would have looked at his feet, didn’t avert his eyes. They were waiting for their telling-off.

But McGonagall felt she first had to know what was going on. “Right,” she said sternly, looking at them one by one. “I demand a very good explanation.”

Potter didn’t bat an eyelid. Without the faintest hint of his usual haughtiness, he replied, “Certainly, Professor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One to be added on the twentieth of August.  
> Teen Rating because of some gore and trauma that will be featured in chapters Three and Four. Not sure about the Archive warnings, there's gore but no explicit violence, soooo...  
> There really isn't much I can say about this prologue, though. It's just a prologue. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place before the summer Sirius ran away from home.

-A Few Hours Earlier-

“Stop your moaning, Moony, or do you want us to get caught?”

“I’m just saying, Padfoot, that I can imagine better ways to spend my Saturday nights.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, Prongs, reading, revising – sleeping? Definitely not hanging around in the corridors and playing hide-and-seek with Mrs Norris!”

“Shh, I think I can hear something!”

“This way, quickly!” James darted around a corner. Sirius followed him in excitement, and Peter stumbled after them. Remus sighed, then he, too, ran down the corridor.

His friends were out of sight, but he didn’t worry. They were probably just behind a corner.

Someone grabbed his arm and pulled him right through a seemingly solid wall. Even though he had walked past it countless times before, he had never assumed anything to be amiss with it. But now he found himself in a secret niche, squeezed between James, who had pulled him inside, and a broadly grinning Sirius. Peter was somewhere to his left. Remus could still see the corridor; apparently, their hiding place was concealed in only one way. _Like Prongs’ Invisibility Cloak,_ he thought.

James glanced at him, a gleeful, lopsided smile on his face. He put a finger to his lips and Remus gave him an indignant look. As if he was stupid enough to risk giving their position away!

The four of them waited, straining their ears. Just as Sirius was about to declare a false alarm, they heard soft footsteps.

James glanced at them. _Mrs Norris._

Peter took a deep breath and held it. Sirius shot him an angry look. That was a grave beginner’s mistake, one that Peter should know better than making by now. They could only hope that Mrs Norris hadn’t heard the sharp intake of air.

Remus leaned against the wall, concentrating on breathing as quietly as possible. James shot him a sideways glance. Even though Remus had been painfully short in their first two years at Hogwarts, he had practically shot upwards in their third, and was now the tallest of them all. 

The footsteps came nearer, and they involuntarily moved closer together. Sirius could feel Peter’s and Remus’ disparate heartbeats. And then Mrs Norris came into view, her round little paws tap-tap-tapping on the ground. James resisted the urge to swallow. _Don’t go making any unnecessary sounds._

Remus’ heart beat faster as the cat suddenly stopped. Without moving his head, he looked first right at James, then left at Sirius and Peter - whose face was as red as a brick. A bead of sweat rolled from his forehead along his jaw. He would need new air soon.

Mrs Norris still wasn’t moving a muscle. Could she smell them? To all their horror, she sat down and started to brush her fur.

Remus saw panic flare up in Peter’s eyes. He started to tremble. It was only a matter of seconds before –  

In blank desperation, Sirius clapped his hand over Peter’s mouth and nose, and Remus helped holding him down as he struggled against their grip. Frantically, Remus looked at James for help. _Do something!_

James’ hazel eyes darted from his friends to Mrs Norris, thinking rapidly. Remus wouldn’t have been surprised if steam was rising from his ears. Suddenly, he slipped a hand in his pocket, made a soundless step forward, aimed, and threw a Knut down the corridor to the left. They waited one second, two seconds, three, four – and then they heard a faint _pling._

Mrs Norris sprang to her feet and whirled around, the fur she had so meticulously groomed standing on end in all directions, and sped away towards the sound.

They waited for two more seconds, then Sirius and Remus finally let Peter go.

“Idiot,” Sirius snapped while Peter was greedily taking huge gulps of air, “how many times do I have to tell you not to hold your breath while hiding?”

“S-sorry, Sirius,” gasped Peter, “I-I pan-panicked.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” James muttered and peeked outside. “All right, the coast is clear! Move!” And he ran to the right, Sirius close on his heels. With a wistful thought of his warm bed, Remus followed. Peter first had to get a bit of his breath back.

James and Sirius had reined their sprint in, walking at a brisk pace. “Where now?” Remus asked when he caught up to them.

James had to jog to keep up with the stride of his friend’s long legs. “I dunno,” he said cheerfully.

“Kitchens?” suggested Sirius. He, being only a little under one or two inches shorter than Remus, had less difficulty keeping up.

“Guys,” panted Peter, stumbling behind them, “wait – up – just – a – se-cond!”

They stopped and waited for him to catch up. Two or three paces in front of them, he tripped over his own feet and would have fallen headlong to the floor had James not grabbed his arm just in time. “Thanks,” mumbled Peter and looked around. “Where are we?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said James and pulled a large pile of parchment out of his pockets: small notes, big sheets, some with irregular edges, all of them covered with drawings and explanatory notes, scribbled on the margins in four different handwritings, crossed out and corrected many times, with arrows, question and exclamation marks criss-crossing over them like some strange playboard.

Sirius, Remus, and Peter stared at the huge pile in James’ hands and then at his comparably tiny pockets.

James caught their glances and grinned at them. “I found a neat little Charm a few days ago,” he explained, not bothering to hide the pride in his voice. “Now I’ve got bigger-on-the-inside-pockets! A-ha!” he exclaimed, whipping up a small note. The others moved closer around him. “Here we are, on this corridor here. That way,” he pointed to the left and then picked up another piece of parchment, “is our Transfiguration classroom, and this way,” he pointed to the right, “is Filch’s office slash torture chamber.” He put the sheets on the ground and started to arrange them like a big jigsaw puzzle.

“We really need to get on with making that map,” Remus muttered.

“We were a little preoccupied, if you haven’t noticed,” retorted Sirius, but winked at him good-naturedly.

Remus smiled back. As if he would forget that tremendous gift his friends had given him by becoming Animagi! For the first time since he could remember, the next night of the full moon didn’t loom over him in every waking hour. Instead, to his greatest surprise, the thought even made him a little excited. It was so much better to run around with his friends than being locked up in a hut and demolishing furniture.

“Are you going to be done soon, Prongs?” Sirius asked, waking Remus from his thoughts, and leaned against a coat of armour.

Out of nowhere, it gave a loud rattle.

Sirius jumped back with a yelp of surprise, messing up their makeshift map. “Did you hear that?” he exclaimed.

“Of course we did, Padfoot,” replied Remus, his wand in his hand. He had a notion what this could be.

“Peeves?” hissed James. “Is that you?” He made a step towards the coat of armour, but Remus held him back.

“I don’t think that’s Peeves,” he said quietly.

“What do you think it is, Moony?”

Remus shook his head a little. He crept forwards, stretched out his wand and prodded the coat of armour. It rattled again, and this time, they thought they could hear a faint _crack._

“Boggart,” Remus announced, stepping back.

James and Sirius squealed in excitement. “Boggart Hunting!” cheered Sirius, and James added, “Now _that’s_ what I call fun!”

“Prongs, Padfoot, please!” said Remus, annoyed. “Take this a little bit more seriously, will you?”

“I’m always serious,” said Sirius with a perfectly straight face. James burst into cackling laughter.

The coat of armour rattled again, and James fell silent as if a switch had been flicked. “Oh no,” he said, disappointment in his voice. “Did I defeat it already?”

Remus shrugged and Sirius prodded the coat of armour again. It lurched forward, making them all stumble back, Sirius stepping right on the parchment pile.

“Watch where you’re going, Padfoot!” shouted James, just as Sirius snapped, “Goddammit, Prongs, put that stuff away again!”

“Shut up, you two!” Remus exclaimed. 

“What!”

“Really, shut up, I’m trying to think.” Remus looked at the suit of armour, and then at his friends. “We all know how to go about this?”

“Sure,” said James dismissively.

“Take turns?” Peter chased it up.

“That’s the one,” replied Remus. “Who goes first?” He looked around. “Sirius?”

To all their surprise, Sirius vehemently shook his head. “No way.”

James frowned. Was it just him or had Sirius gone pale? “You all right, Padfoot?”

“I’m not going first.”

"Weren't you cheering about it a minute ago?" asked Remus.

Sirius shifted his jaw and crossed his arms. "I'm not. Going. First."

“Well, okay. There’s four of us, so you don’t need to,” said James.

“I’ll be last.”

The others exchanged glances. “But then you might end up not fighting it at all.”

“Fine by me.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at James, but he just shrugged. “Well, all right, while we’re at it, let’s establish an order here,” said James. “Sirius goes last, so…”

Peter raised a trembling hand. “Can I go third?”

“Yeah, sure.” James looked at Remus. “You okay with second place?”

“Go ahead,” Remus said with a shrug. He was glad his friends couldn’t tell how fast his heart was beating. It would be fine, he told himself. The last time he’d faced a Boggart, it had taken the form of the full moon. He could handle that.

Though he wasn’t so sure if the full moon was the thing that scared him the most anymore, not with his friends being Animagi... The fact that they spent any time in his werewolf-self's vicinity, however... He pushed the thoughts away and raised his wand. “To recap,” he said, pointing his wand at the visor. “James goes first, then me, than Peter, and then Sirius, if it’s still there by then. Everyone got that?”

Murmurs of agreement, and James said, “Get on with it, Moony.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Remus cast a silent incantation, green sparks flew out of his wand, and the helmet’s visor opened, and the Boggart shot out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update: 23rd.  
> Patronuses (Patroni?) can change, so why not Boggarts?  
> Also, guess what Sirius' Boggart is, and why he doesn't want to face it. (Hint it's a female member of his family.)  
> All of my HP Fics share one continuity.


	3. Two

James didn’t flinch. He stood upright, even as a chimera roared into his face. He stared right down its lion maw, his wand outstretched, and said calmly, “Riddikulus!”

A large party blowout appeared in the lion’s throat, turning its roar into a cheerful honk. The snake’s tail twisted and knotted itself into a pretty bow, while the goat horns transformed into party hats.

Sirius roared with laughter and the Boggart screeched, kept at bay by Remus and James. Then it saw Peter.

 _Crack!_ The Boggart became a wraith, a howling figure that seemed to be made of smoke and torn leather, billowing and whisping in a non-existent breeze.

It threw Remus, who was just stepping up, to the side and charged at Peter like a ferocious locomotive. Peter stood frozen in shock.

“Snap out of it!” bellowed Sirius.

The Boggart screamed like a banshee and Peter raised his wand with a shaking hand.

“Ex-ex-expelliarmus!” he squeaked.

The Boggart’s head snapped back as if someone had kicked it in the chin. It fell backwards, but caught itself before it hit the ground. It rose into the air, gave a croak like a crow and then zoomed over their heads and into the gloom of the corridors.

“Oh, come _on_ , Wormtail!” Sirius shouted angrily, closing in on Peter.

“Leave him alone, Padfoot!” James said, helping Remus to his feet. “Look on the bright side, this way we’ll have even more fun!”

Remus groaned.

“Are you hurt?” asked James in alarm.

“No, I just want to go to bed already,” muttered Remus.

The others laughed. “Tough luck,” sniggered Sirius. “What’s the plan, Prongs?”

“We form pairs,” replied James, “you and Wormtail, and Moony and me. Have you got the two-way-mirror with you?”

“Of course.”

“Perfect. Okay, we’ll split up, and when the one pair finds the Boggart, they use the mirror to call the others, all right?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Sirius laughed.

James grinned. “Let’s go, then,” he said. “Come on, Moony!”

Remus sighed. “I wish I had never agreed to come.” But he followed James down the corridor.

Wands at the ready, they crept silently through the castle. Every now and then, they cowered behind corners or hid in cupboards and cabinets to avoid Mrs Norris or Filch; the cat had gone and fetched the caretaker, and now they were on the hunt. _Just like us hunting the Boggart,_ James thought and grinned. _The only difference is that we’re better at our job._

“What are you so happy about?” Remus asked quietly when they left their hiding place behind the statue of a squatted-down knight.

“Oh, just enjoying myself.”

“How nice,” muttered Remus absently, regarding the statue. The way he was fiddling with his wand told James he was deep in thought.

The knight was carved from snow-white marvel. He crouched behind his triangular, battered shield and held his sword aloft. It had more nicks than there seemed to be room for.

“I wonder,” Remus finally said aloud, “if there is something hidden behind this statue, too.”

“Hold up.” James took their map out again. “There is,” he said after a little bit of searching. “Wormtail stumbled upon it a few days ago when he tried to run from Slughorn. Apparently, it’s a tunnel, but he didn’t manage to explore it because he got caught.”

“And how do you open it?”

James squinted at the sloppy handwriting. “Pull at the… pull at the s…sword-arm.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Remus said, gripped the statue’s right wrist and pulled.

For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but then the arm gave way with a low rumble, and the wall behind the knight opened.

James and Remus exchanged glances, James’ eyes ablaze with excitement, and reluctantly, Remus had to admit that the prospect of uncovering another one of the old castle’s many forgotten mysteries tickled his sense for adventure, too. They lit their wands and climbed into the hole. Behind them, the statue’s arm snapped back up and the wall closed again.

The floor inside the tunnel was covered in such a thick layer of dust that small clouds puffed up where-ever they put their feet, and when James looked over his shoulder, their path was marked by footprints. Fat spiders had woven their thick nets in every corner, and more than once did they get caught in them. It was obvious they were the first to use this tunnel in many years.

Remus was just beginning to wonder how long they would have to continue when they found themselves at a dead end.

They stared at it for a few moments, then James asked, “How do you think this is supposed to be opened, Moony?”

Remus bit his lip and looked around. “I don’t know, Prongs,” he said slowly. “The one Poppy and I use to get to the Whomping Willow opens when you press a certain brick, but…”

“But to open the one that circumvents the Moving Staircase, you have to knock four times,” James finished the sentence.

“Exactly.”

“So… what do we do? Look around? Search for clues?”

“Yes, anything out of the usual. Like protruding bricks, I don’t know.”

“Or handles.”

Remus frowned. “That sounds a little too obvious.”

“Sometimes, the best place to hide something is out in the open.”

“Huh.”

“Really, Moony,” chuckled James. “I thought with all the crime novels you read, you would think of that.”

Remus rolled his eyes and started to run his hands over the wall in front of them, while James, still smirking, went to inspect the ones on either side. Dust billowed up and Remus sneezed. James laughed, but a cloud of dust swirled down his throat and he doubled over, coughing violently.

Remus watched him in amusement. “Are you still alive?”

James managed to straighten up and glared at him. “Fine,” he wheezed.

Now it was Remus’ turn to smirk. From now on, they were careful not to disturb the dust too much, though they couldn’t prevent a couple of more sneezes.

“A-ha!” James finally exclaimed.

“What is it?” asked Remus, abandoning his wall and coming over.

“See that?” replied James and pointed at the wall. 

Remus held his wand closer. “Is that a handprint?”

“Yup.” James pointed at the opposite wall. “There’s one over there, too.”

“Indeed,” muttered Remus. “And you think putting our hands on them will open the wall?”

“Well, I don’t think someone got bored and just painted them there.”

“You’re right, a coincidence seems unlikely.” Remus straightened up. “Lucky we’re two, then.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Who’s missing the obvious now?” said Remus with a smile and held his wand-light close to first the handprint on the right and then on the left. “It’s two right hands.”

“Wow,” said James, impressed. “That is ingenious.”

“And dangerous. If Slughorn hadn’t caught him, poor Wormtail would have been stuck in here.”

“I’ll make sure to put a warning on our map.” James switched his wand into his left hand and placed his right on the handprint. Remus did the same with the other one, and after a moment, the wall in front of them vanished.

“Hm, a silent one,” muttered Remus. “I wonder why that’s so.”

“Only one way to find out.” Holding his glimmering wand high, James stepped out of the tunnel and found himself in a hall so big the light of his wand couldn’t reach into the corners. “Where are we?” he whispered. To his surprise, there was no echo.

“The library,” replied Remus in an awed voice.

“What? How did you manage to find that out?”

Remus smiled and took a deep breath through his nose. “Doesn’t that smell wonderful?” he sighed.

“You could _smell_ it?”

“Books have the most wonderful scent in the world,” retorted Remus, “and I spend half my free time here. Of course I could.”

“Wow, you’re _such_ a nerd.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Do you think Madam Pince knows about the tunnel?” asked James.

“I doubt it,” Remus replied. “But it would expl –”

“Shh!” James suddenly held up a finger and strained his ears.

Now Remus heard it, too. A rustle and a rattle to somewhere to their left.

“Could that be the Boggart?” James whispered.

“Could be. It doesn’t sound like one to me, though.”

“What else could it be?” retorted James.

Remus shrugged.

“Let’s find out, then.” James gripped his wand tighter and crept towards the rustle, keeping low. Remus followed suit, though he felt a little silly. After all, he had spent countless hours wandering the gaps between the shelves, and knew every turn and corner by heart. Here, he needn’t worry about tests or the full moon or the House Cup – here, he could completely lose himself in the worlds made from paper and ink. The notion that anything could hurt him here was laughable.

But a Boggart was lose, Remus knew, and this dark and deserted library with its endless nooks and crannies was paradise for them.

James stopped to listen. “Over there!”

“That’s the Restricted Section,” Remus remarked.

James turned around and rolled his eyes. “I know,” he said indignantly. “I do happen to spend some time here, too.”

“Prongs?” It was Sirius’ voice, coming from James’ pocket. He took the two-way mirror out. 

“Hey, Padfoot, what’s the matter?”

Sirius’ face appeared in the mirror. “We found it,” he announced proudly. “It’s in McGonagall’s old classroom.”

“What, the one you and Prongs demolished in year three?” Remus piped up, standing so that Sirius could see him.

“Hi, Moony.” Sirius waved. “Yes, the very same.”

“Are you sure it’s the Boggart?” asked James.

Sirius tilted his head. “Pretty sure, there’s rattling and all. Why?”

“Well…” James scratched his head. “Moony and I have found some rattling noise, too.”

“ _Another_ Boggart?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus said. “How about this, we check out the noise here, and when it turns out not to be a Boggart – which, I might add, is much more likely than a second Boggart in one night –”

“Get to the point,” interrupted James.

Remus shot him an indignant look. “Anyway, if it’s not a Boggart, we join Padfoot and Wormtail, and if it is, we call them here.”

“Good idea,” agreed Sirius. “Wormtail and I’ll make sure our Boggart stays where it is.”

“Cool,” replied James. “Hey, Padfoot, guess what?”

“What?”

“We found another tunnel, one that leads to the library!”

“Hey, fantastic!” Sirius held up his thumb. “I want to hear every detail later!”

“Obviously.”

Sirius laughed. “All right, see you in a minute!”

“Yeah, bye!” And with that, James put the mirror back into his pocket. “Come on, Moony.”

They went into the Restricted Section. James held his wand to the dark shelves. The rattling was coming from right…

“Here.” Remus climbed over the rope and pointed his wand-light at the shelf.

One book was protruding. As James watched, it lurched and wriggled, causing the rattling noise. 

“Someone didn’t put it back correctly,” Remus said, shaking his head disapprovingly. He pushed the book back, and the rattling stopped.

“That was it?” asked James in a mixture of astonishment and disappointment.

“Yup.”

“Lame.”

Remus shrugged, trying not to smile. “Let’s join Padfoot and Wormtail,” he said instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does James have a chimera as a Boggart? Well, you have to remember that he's fifteen in this, so he's still a little immature. Just think of Remus' lesson in PoA - most of the Boggarts were mummies, spiders, and so forth. I imagine that a Boggart changes as much as a person grows - you can't be afraid to see your children's dead bodies if you don't have children. So James is afraid of chimeras. I'm pretty sure by the time he's approaching seventeen, his Boggart is very different.  
> Next Update: 26th.  
> (I'm always happy to read your comments, by the way, and kudos are wonderful.)


	4. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gore and mutilation are featured near the end of the chapter.

On their way to the classroom Sirius had described, they nearly had a run-in with Filch. Only James’ quick thinking and a conveniently unlocked cabinet saved them from getting caught. When they finally met Sirius, he had strayed a little way from the classroom.

“Finally,” he greeted them.“Yeah, sorry, Filch nearly got us,” replied James.

“Getting sloppy, are you?”

“Pfft, as if.” 

“Can we please get this over with?” interrupted Remus, just as Peter strolled over.

“Suddenly eager as well?” he teased.

“How many times?” Remus snapped. “I just want to go to bed, for God’s sake!”

“All right, all right,” said Sirius, “shout a little louder, will you?”

“HA!” someone yelled behind them.

They whirled around.

It was Filch, standing in the corridor, huffing and puffing like and old, scrawny lizard, and pointing a long, bony finger at them. “Found you at last!” he cried.

Sirius glanced at Remus. “Now you’ve done it.”

In the blink of an eye, they sped off in different directions. Sirius, the fastest sprinter and boldest daredevil, bore onto the caretaker at full speed. They would have collided had Filch not jumped out of the way at the last second.

“You insolent brat!” he screeched, shaking his fist. “Come back here at once!”

But Sirius merely laughed, making a very rude gesture indeed, and ran away. Spitting and hissing and cursing, Filch stumbled after him.

Meanwhile, Remus made a point of rounding every corner he came across. He had heard the racket Filch and Sirius had made, and even though he hadn’t seen it, he knew exactly what had happened. After all, they had used this tactic more times than he could count. 

 _And Filch is still falling for it,_ Remus thought. He allowed his sprint to turn into a jog. _One would assume five years of chasing us around would make him a little more experienced._ But no, they still managed to outwit him with the same old trick over and over again.

Remus turned left. The method was brilliantly effective in its simplicity; instead of running far, the trick was to hide the moment they were out of sight, and then wait until the coast was clear.

He turned right again – and found himself back where he had started: the old Transfiguration classroom James and Sirius had managed to reduce to rubble some time ago, and in which the Boggart was now hiding.

Remus bit his lip. In class, he had always managed to deal with Boggarts fairly easily, but the notion of going up against one on his very own made him more uncomfortable than he wanted to admit.

Unsure what to do, he closed his eyes and listened.

At first, it seemed everything was perfectly quiet. All Remus could hear was his own breath. But then, more sounds slowly emerged: the creaking of the floorboards. The soft howling of the wind outside the castle. The flaring crackle of the torches on the walls. Very distantly, gleeful laughter. And then – footsteps coming nearer. And they were not his friends’.

Now Remus didn’t have a choice anymore. He yanked the door open and slipped inside the classroom.

His heart throbbing against his ribcage, he pressed one ear to the door. The footsteps came nearer until they were right in front of him – and then they faded again.

Remus let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. _I’ll never let the others talk me into coming again,_ he vowed, knowing very well he would break the oath the very next time James, Sirius, and Peter would set out.

Remus reached for the door knob – and his blood froze in his veins. There was a sound behind him – _Drip. Drip. Drip._ Like a water tab that wasn’t closed properly. Slowly, Remus turned around – and recoiled.

A gigantic, ragged wolf stood in the middle of the room, blood dripping from its jaws onto the floor. Its face was riddled with scars, in a pattern that was weirdly familiar. At its feet, in a puddle of scarlet blood, lay a body, torn to shreds. Remus couldn’t see its face, and he didn’t want – the corpse turned its head.

It was Sirius. His throat was ripped out and he was missing an eye.

Remus gagged. Now, he also realised why the scars on the wolf’s face were so familiar – he saw them every time he looked into the mirror.

“It’s all right,” Sirius said, making Remus jump. “I know it’s not your fault.”

Remus suddenly felt very cold. Shaking, he backed away from the door and deeper into the classroom. It was his worst nightmare – the one that kept coming back at least once in a month.

Only this time, it was worse.

This time, he could smell the blood and feel it seep into his shoes. And he saw himself, could smell the harsh, tangy odour coming from the werewolf, and feel its breath on his skin. He saw himself as the beast that he was.

It took him a little while to remember that he was dealing with a Boggart. _This isn’t real,_ he thought, screwing his eyes shut. _It’s just a stupid Boggart playing with my mind. I can handle Boggarts._ He opened his eyes again and gasped softly at seeing the image anew.

“I don’t blame you,” Sirius said, the understanding in his voice worse than the blood he was lying in. 

Remus’ breath was coming in shallow, unsteady thrusts. “It’s not real,” he whispered to himself. The werewolf growled. _Not real,_ Remus thought, but when he raised his wand, his hand was quivering.

“R-r-rid-dikulus,” he stammered, even though he had no idea how the horrific scene could be made into an amusing one. 

_Crack!_

Sirius’ body vanished, but James’ took his place.

“I forgive you, Moony, dear friend,” said James compassionately, even though half his face was a bloody, mutilated mess.

“No,” Remus whispered, “no!” Tears welled up in his eyes and he felt like he was being strangled. “Riddikulus!” he croaked.

_Crack!_

Sirius’ body re-emerged next to James. “We still love you, Moony,” they said together.

“Riddikulus!” Remus was almost sobbing now.

_Crack!_

Peter joined them. The front of his shirt was bright red and torn. His ribcage was completely shattered. 

“We are not afraid,” they chorused.

“Riddikulus!” Remus sobbed.

_Crack!_

They stood lined up, every single drop of blood gone, every cut and bruise healed.

Remus blinked in bewilderment. Had he managed it?

But then Sirius smiled. 

And it wasn’t his light-hearted, easy smile. It was the compassionate, forgiving smile he always smiled in Remus’ nightmare, right before Remus’ dream-self would rip his throat out.

And he didn’t smile at Remus himself, either. He smiled at the werewolf.

“We are not afraid,” said Peter. The beast growled.

James spread his arms invitingly. “We are not afraid.”

And the werewolf lunged.

And Remus screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy.
> 
> Just one more chapter to go! (29th.)


	5. Four

-Moments Earlier-

“Shht, Padfoot!”

Sirius stopped and turned around. “Prongs?”

“The one and only.” James grinned and stepped out of his hiding place. “I reckon you managed to outrun Filch?” he asked, stretching out his hand.

“Piece of cake,” Sirius scoffed, slapping it.

Then a scream pierced the night, filled with terror and sending and icy shudder down James’ spine. They looked at each other in alarm.

Then, without a word, they sprinted to the empty classroom.

Sirius reached it first and almost ripped the door out of its hinges. “Lumos!” he snapped, and his wand lit up like a Christmas tree.

It took him and James only a fraction of a second to see what was going on.

Remus’ werewolf form, tearing theirs and Peter’s bodies apart, and Remus himself, in a dark corner, his arms over his head, sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

Sirius walked right up to him without even so much as a glance at the Boggart. He crouched down and pulled Remus into a hug, swaying a little but keeping his balance when Remus grabbed his shirt and clung to it.

Meanwhile, James concentrated on the picture he had formed in his mind. He pointed his wand at the Boggart and said grimly, “Riddikulus!”

_Crack!_

The bodies and the blood vanished, and the werewolf shrank until it was the size of a tiny mouse. It tried to growl, but instead, it quacked like a duck.

The corners of James’ mouth twitched, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh. Not with the memory of Remus’ Boggart so fresh in his mind. Not with Remus’ scream still ringing in his ears.

Sirius started to sing and James listened. The Boggart was still running around in circles and quacking angrily, but he ignored it, instead completely engrossed in the music. After all this time, he still wasn’t immune to its magic. Not that he wanted to be.

But he was granted only a few moments.

The door opened and Peter barged in, wrenching James from his daze. The tiny wolf hobbled towards him and quacked accusingly.

Peter burst out laughing, and with another loud _crack,_ the Boggart vanished.

Still giggling, Peter looked at James – and was instantly serious at his friend’s grim expression. His gaze fell on Remus and Sirius. “Merlin’s beard,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t…”

But James shook his head. “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “Lucky, actually, because I couldn’t laugh at it.” He patted Peter on the back. “Well done, Wormtail.”

Peter smiled crookedly. 

Throughout the whole incident, Sirius had not faltered once. He looked up and nodded at Peter, but he didn’t stop singing.

Peter and James stood like statues, watching over their friends while allowing themselves to drown in the familiar comfort of Sirius’ velvet voice and the lullaby’s well-known words. Numbly, James realised it wasn’t only for Remus any more, but for all of them.

Later, he wouldn’t be able to tell how long they had been standing there when Professor McGonagall burst into the room.

She opened her mouth – about to give them a very good telling-off, no doubt – but then she saw Remus and Sirius and deflated like a balloon. She stared from one to the other in complete bewilderment.

James couldn’t blame her. He knew what a strange sight this was.

Their eyes met and McGonagall understood. She closed the door behind her and nodded at him. 

He dipped his head, feeling a rush of respectful affection for his Head Teacher. Every other member of staff would ask questions, but McGonagall sensed she was intruding into something where she was not - and could not - be the authority, and that the priority was to let them sort themselves out.

When Remus had calmed down – and dozed off, which was something that had happened increasingly frequent in the past few months -, Sirius looked up at James, nodding once.

He tiptoed over to him, squatted down, and pulled Sirius into a short hug. Sirius put his forehead against his for a moment, allowing a little sigh of exhaustion to escape his lungs.

James glanced at Remus and back at Sirius. He tilted his head. _What about you, Padfoot? Are you all right?_

Sirius shrugged, his eyes steely. _Nothing I can’t handle. It’s Moony you should worry about._

James wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to press the matter right now. He patted Sirius on the back, brushed a strand of hair out of Remus’ face, and stood up. He took a deep breath to brace himself before he turned around to face Professor McGonagall.

The others looked at her, too. They were certain that now Remus had calmed down, they would get their dressing down.

Instead, she surprised them all by saying, “Right. I demand a very good explanation!”

James’ face was like stone. “Certainly, Professor,” he said matter-of-factly and recounted the whole evening, leaving only a few details he found too personal out. He knew it was a confession, but somehow, it didn’t feel like one. He realised he was doing exactly what McGonagall had asked: he explained the situation, rather than trying to find excuses. Whatever their punishment would be, they would accept it with dignity.

“Well, Professor,” he said when he reached the end. “You know the rest.” He took a deep breath and slowly let it out through his nose. Somehow, he felt drained. He caught Sirius’ eye, seeing his own worries mirrored on his friend’s face. Surely _now_ McGonagall would punish them. 

But McGonagall was silent. James wasn’t sure, but he thought he could see some softness in her eyes.

“It’s late,” she said at long last, making them all jump. “You should go to bed.”

James blinked, exchanging another glance with Sirius. Was that it?

“Haven’t you heard me?” snapped McGonagall, but not nearly as sharply as usual.

“Er, yes, Professor,” James stuttered hastily. “We have.”

“Good.” McGonagall turned around and walked to the door. But in the frame, she looked at them once more. “I want all four of you in my office on Monday at six o’clock in the evening,” she ordered. “Is that clear?”

“Yes, Professor,” said James steadily.

“Good. Well… good night.” She nodded to them curtly, and then she left the classroom.

They all sighed when she was gone. Sirius shifted a little; Remus was weighing heavily down on his shoulder. 

“I suppose we got lucky,” Peter said, breaking the silence.

James nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I suppose.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Come on, guys,” he muttered. “McGonagall’s right, we really should go to bed.”

Sirius nodded. Gently, he shook Remus’ shoulder. “Wake up, little oddball.”

Remus lifted his head, blinking drowsily. “Where am I?” he murmured, slurring his words. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” replied Sirius quietly, helping him to his feet. “You nodded off, that’s all.” 

Remus frowned, but his memories were too hazy. “It’s… it’s not a full moon yet, is it?” he asked.

James and Sirius glanced at each other. If Remus couldn’t remember the phase of the moon, he was much more worn out than they’d thought.

“No,” James replied quietly. “But we really should go now.”

“Yeah, okay,” muttered Remus. His eyes were closing again already.

Sirius took his arm and slung it over his shoulders, grunting, “Dammit, Moony, when did you get so bloody tall?”

Remus forced his eyes open, managing a grin. “When I got tired of being short.”

Sirius snorted, shaking his head. “Little oddball,” he muttered.

As Remus practically fell asleep every three steps, James and Peter helped Sirius half dragging, half guiding him to their dormitory. When they had finally reached it, they dropped Remus on his bed rather unceremoniously. 

Sirius groaned, him and James falling onto the sheets next to Remus.

He opened his eyes. “Get off,” he muttered, nudging James with his foot. “Far too crowded.”

James swatted at him half-heartedly. “Give us a minute to catch our breaths, will you? You’re _heavy_. And, Merlin’s beard, take your shoes off.”

“ _You’re_ puny,” Remus retorted, kicking the shoes off his feet.

Sirius said nothing. He barked.

“Shht,” muttered James without opening his eyes.

The dog Sirius grunted, wagging his tail.

“That’s my face,” grumbled Remus.

Sirius turned around and wriggled under Remus’ arm. Remus curled around him. There was a click and it went dark; Peter had turned the lights off. Then Remus heard a faint squeaking and felt fur brush over his cheek as Peter made a nest on his pillow as a rat.

Remus sighed, pulling the dog Sirius closer. “I’m never going Boggart Hunting with you again,” he murmured.

Sirius grunted. Peter squeaked quietly.

James said nothing. He was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes another story.  
> I've got another short, a sort of prequel for this, maybe I'll upload that one day, too. But the next story I'm going to upload is probably going to be an Adam-centred _Raven Cycle_ ficlet.  
>  Thanks for everyone who has read this, both at the time of me writing this and later on.   
> I apologise for the weird numbering system. Blame AO3.  
> Anyway, that's all from me. Peace.


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